


Five

by thearkwrites



Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4471325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearkwrites/pseuds/thearkwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five senses. Five scenarios. Five moments shared between mechs with nothing better to do. Fourth story: Smell, featuring Steeljaw, Fracture and Thunderhoof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Taste: Steeljaw and Thunderhoof

**Author's Note:**

> I've no justification for writing these saucy little snippets other than "I just felt like it". There may or may not be an underlying plot here. What is certain, however, is that there will be much questionable happenings from here on out.
> 
> Caveat Emptor, gentle readers.

"So...youse gonna go down on me or what?"

The wolf-con quirked up one of his eyebrow ridges. "Was that an order or a request?" Steeljaw asked, vocals dripping with thinly concealed annoyance. 

"It was an invitation, Steel'." Thunderhoof retorted as he rolled his optics. "You keep on bein' on that uptight and you're gonna pop a screw loose just by shakin' your tailpipe."

Steeljaw didn't bother dignifying the snark with a response. He couldn't. He had, to his shame, momentarily froze up at the sight of Thunderhoof's exposed, weeping valve. 

Primus, it had been too long since he last had or gave a frag. The trysts of eons past were but hazy, faulty memories that faintly ticked the edges of his processor. At this point he was more than willing to berth just any mech to burn off his millenia of pent-up frustrations. Even that insufferable goody-two-pedes Bumblebee were he given the chance. The Autobot allegiance would certainly have added an uncomfortable layer of awkwardness to the encounter. Still, Bumblebee was traditionally handsome, was of a robust shell, seemed the type who could use a walk on the wild side. He'd suffice.

But fortunately, thankfully, there was another Decepticon who shared the same sentiments as he did and was just as eager to release his nervous energies in the berth.

And the desire showed. "You likin' what you see?" Thunderhoof teased breathlessly. He leaned backwards to give Steeljaw an even better view. "Then go for it."

With Thunderhoof's permission, Steeljaw dipped his helm between the other's thighs. He spread apart the outer lips in a tentative fashion, careful to leave the mass of delicate cables unscathed by his claws. The aroma of fresh transfluids wafting directly onto his face elicited a long, shuddering sigh from Steeljaw. The sight of puffy, moist valve lips shining slick underneath the fading warehouse light made his optics shutter. The burning question on how his lover would taste prompted him to insert his glossa in between the quivering folds.

Thunderhoof's frame jerked in shock. "Ey yoo! Easy does it pally!" his vocals nearly cracked at the last word.

Though it had been millenia since the wolf-con last laid with another, he was clearly experienced. There was no hint of uncertainty in his movements. Only self-assurance that resonated with every calculated motion: from his servo tips gently massaging the valve rim to his glossa lapping up copious amounts of transfluids directly from the source. Even Steeljaw's dentae were used, lightly nipping at soaking-wet valve folds, careful not to draw energon.

"Oh Steely..."

The corners of Steeljaw's lip plates drew up into a sly smile. He was exultant, proud that he could reduce an arrogant mech like Thunderhoof into a moaning, needy mess. One who rhythmically bucked his hips into the other's mouth in an effort to make the experience all the more pleasurable for them both.

A thought occurred to Steeljaw. 

How far was he willing to go?

To Thunderhoof's complete surprise, Steeljaw dared to go even deeper. The roving appendage pushed in further until it was licking the tender valve hole fringes.

This was new, very new. Back when the elk-con had underlings to order around, they didn't do much else but suck his exterior node and flick at his valve lips. None of them had the bearings to do more than that. Then again, none of them were as skilled as Steeljaw, who adeptly manoeuvred his way around to tease overheating sensory nodules. Thunderhoof's innermost valve walls, pulsing with skittish friction, intermittently contracted around Steeljaw's glossa.

"Oh Primus!"

Thunderhoof covered his mouth as he came. His entire frame shook with the devastating overload that nearly sent him into soft reset. Underneath, Steeljaw coolly maintained his position and kept his snout buried in the other's valve.

When Thunderhoof was done, Steeljaw rose up. His faceplate was totally soaked but he paid it no mind. He looked absolutely pleased with himself.

"Sweet."

Thunderhoof weakly cocked his helm. "Huh...?"

Steeljaw ran a servo across his lip plates and suckled on the dripping appendage. "You taste delicious, Thunderhoof."

"Thanks...?" was all Thunderhoof could manage.

"But now that that's out of the way..." Steeljaw undid the seams of his interface panel and unsheathed his erect spike, an impressive monstrosity that snapped Thunderhoof out of his daze. "...we can get down to business."


	2. Sight: Grimlock and Bumblebee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little sweetness between good ol' 'Bee and Grim'.

It became instinctual by now. It was Grimlock's favorite part of their evenings together. Or more specifically, the part that followed doing what Denny sheepishly called "making love". In those moments of stillness, of exhausted silence, of bliss-filled calm after once again surrendering to the mutual attraction growing between them...Grimlock would simply look into Bumblebee's optics.

No exuberant boasting. No blood lust-fuelled swaggering. No brash posturing. Just staring at Bumblebee, his leader, his lover, and into those gorgeous optics.

Grimlock himself never quite worked out what it was that compelled him to do this. To be so quiet and wistful was to not be Grimlock at all. In truth though, he stopped trying to understand it long ago. This was Bumblebee after all. Never did he need any justifications for the tiniest iota of affection he showered upon the yellow mech. Whether it was playful smacks on the aft when no one was looking or admiring the other's optics post fragging, the dinobot would do it as frequently as he could.

There came a time when Bumblebee was unnerved by this odd habit. He approached Grimlock on the matter after yet another--deliriously explosive--session together. The sun rose and dipped into the horizon with little incident, leaving them with enough energy to burn. As they finished, the larger mech lifted Bumblebee up off his spike and carefully laid the smaller mech across his chassis. They lay together for what seemed like orns. Bumblebee atop Grimlock, servos and claws intertwined, interface arrays coated in lubricant and transfluids. 

"Something the matter, Grim'?" Bumblebee asked, breaking the lull of silence.

Grimlock shook his helm. "Nah, why'd ya ask, 'Bee?"

"You've been unusually silent...I just want to make sure that there isn't anything bothering you. Is it Sideswipe again?" He narrowed his optics in suspicion.

"Nope."

"Overbite?"

"Nada."

"Clampdown?"

"You gonna list everyone we know?"

Bumblebee paused in thought, considering the idea before dismissing it completely. "Well if there ever is something you want to talk about you're more than welcome...highly encouraged even...to approach me about it. I'm always here to listen."

"Nothing's botherin' me, 'Bee." Grimlock assured him. "I just love lookin' at you." 

"Oh?" Bumblebee gave the other a wry smile.

"Can you blame me? You're beautiful."

"Oh." Bumblebee's expression faltered at the candor in Grimlock's vocals. White faceplates heated up to a nice shade of red visible even under faint moonlight. "Slag, Grim', don't just throw that stuff out of nowhere!" The little yellow mech sounded distressed, appalled even.

Grimlock couldn't help but grin at how flustered Bumblebee had become. A legend of Cybertron brought down to an adorable, blushing mess by a few kind words. Was there anyone else, Autobot, Decepticon or otherwise, who could lay claim to such a feat? None but him.

"Aww, look at you, 'Bee!" Grimlock cooed.

Bumblebee grunted in frustration. "I don't want to."

"Then I will!" the dinobot said with his usual enthusiasm.

Grimlock, always doing his best for his leader, kept his word. Bumblebee, never one to deny the other's affections, came to enjoy it.


	3. Sound: Strongarm and Sideswipe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing too sexy in this chapter. Just fluff. And mayhaps a little hint of sexy. Mayhaps.

"I think I'm gonna purge my tanks."

"Are you ill, Sideswipe?"

Sideswipe stuck a servo into his intake and pretended to gag. "Yeah I'm ill. Ill from love."

Strongarm flicked her attention from Sideswipe to Bumblebee and Grimlock. Currently, the two mechs were seated on the ground and appeared to be in deep discussion, both throwing around words like "base of operations" and "full frontal assault" in hushed, somber voices. But the exchange of loving glances and shy touches were all too obvious. Subtle as they tried to be, they were awful at concealing their gestures of affection. Grimlock in particular looked like he wanted to cast aside all inhibitions and make a display of himself and Bumblebee, if the naughty gleam in his optics was any indication.

In a way, it was almost refreshing a sight to see. Most of their earthen days were consumed by their duties to protect the peace and to capture any and all Decepticons they came across. Levity of this variety was a welcome change.

Strongarm turned back to the mech. "Let them be, Sideswipe. This planet doesn't provide nearly enough comforts for your average Cybertronian. There's nothing wrong with making do what you have. Especially..." she gave Bumblebee and Grimlock a quick look--and caught the dinobot's servos lingering above the other's aft--before returning to Sideswipe. "...if all you have is someone else."

To her surprise, Sideswipe's expression switched from pretend-disgust to absolute glee in the span of seconds. Not the reaction she was expecting. "Ooh, listen to you!" he teased, optics bright and wide. He cupped his faceplates, as if to contain the massive smile pushing towards the corners of his optics. "Is your spark going soft, Strongarm?"

"Excuse me?"

"Sounds like somebot's turning a little tender on us." Sideswipe's vocals hiked up to a sing-song cadence.

"Absolutely not." The femme scowled. "I'm merely stating that there's nothing wrong with--"

"It totally is! It's gettin' all soft and squishy!" Sideswipe interrupted her with a string of cloying coos. He was enjoying this way too much.

Strongarm sighed and rolled her optics in exasperation. She simply wasn't in the mood to entertain Sideswipe's more annoying quirks. "Believe whatever makes you happy. Just don't let it get in the way of our mission." she said with finality, keen to end the conversation and move on with her day.

But the mech wasn't having it. As soon as Strongarm's pedes began trudging towards the other direction, Sideswipe had moved in front of her, blocking the way with his frame. "Okay, alright, sorry, sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all, but Strongarm had little choice but to humor him. For now. "But since you brought it up, know what I believe?"

"I didn't ask."

Sideswipe pressed on, tactfully ignoring the femme's deepening frown. "I believe--and I'm being sincere here, believe it or not--that you need to really need to talk like that more often."

Strongarm said nothing, keeping the dour expression while awaiting whatever nonsense the red mech had to sputter next.

"Talk less like a law enforcement automaton and more like a normal 'bot. Less of 'stupid-protocol-this' and 'protocol-nobody-gives-a-slag-about-that', and more of 'why yes Sideswipe my emotional processors still function normally, thank you'."

"Hrmm."

"Like you said. Make do with what you have. And what I have is..." digits clasped at air, reaching and searching for the right words. For the first time since the conversation started, Sideswipe looked like he didn't know what to say next. He tried to look contemplative, appear as though he was thinking over a great many options from an impressive vocabulary. The shallow invents of air said otherwise.

Strongarm's expression softened. Seeing a slight crack in the other's confidence was almost enough to make her forget how he had acted moments ago. Almost. "Sideswipe?"

"Forget it, I just lost my train of thought. Thanks." Sideswipe glared, swiftly recovering from his momentary lapse in confidence. "But yeah. Keep on talking good things, okay? I like hearing you spout normal-sounding words every once in a while. It's nice."

Was Sideswipe... _blushing_?

_He was_. It was Strongarm's turn to smile.

When she was sure Grimlock and Bumblebee were busy enough, Strongarm took a step forward and kissed Sideswipe's cheek, smiling inwardly at the growing heat pulsing against her lip components. A quick peck and she pulled back, slipping once more into her staunch demeanour the moment other optics peered in their direction.

"I can't promise I'll do it, but I can try." Strongarm lowered her vocals to a static-laced whisper and winked.

Judging by the look of awe on Sideswipe's faceplates, that was exactly what he wanted. "Hearing you say that is good enough."

-

On the other side of the clearing, Grimlock and Bumblebee watched the scene unfold with great amusement. They even pretended to be too preoccupied at one point just to see what would happen next. The kiss was unexpected but very much appreciated.

"Sideswipe and Strongarm. Do you want to... _y'know_...with them?" Grimlock asked.

"What, while you watch?"

"Or you could be the one watching. Or it could be all four of us at the same time. Or the three of us on you. Been a while since you been 'faced like that, right?" The dinobot sounded too excited.

Bumblebee noted the enthusiasm and let out a gentle laugh. "Down, Grim', they aren't even courting each other. Yet."

Grimlock just shrugged. "I can wait." he said, confident.


	4. Smell: Fracture, Thunderhoof and Steeljaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because there was nada smut in the last chapter, consider this addition a proper apology.

There was no mistaking it.

It wafted through the base. Thick, heavy, impossible to ignore. So strong that it made Steeljaw take a pause from his brainstorming, its presence and promise an unexpected surprise.

Olfactory sensors flared to life and Steeljaw inhaled deeply. Particulates of all varieties tickled at hypersensitive scent-detecting nodules. Odor analyzers went into overdrive. Processors focused on making sense of the information he was unravelling and by the time he had a faint idea of what he has smelling, the wolf con's lip components arched into a knowing smile.

"My oh my." Steeljaw purred.

In a single, fluid motion he dropped down to all fours and shifted into stealth mode, ensuring all movements from here on out would be careful and inhibited. Covertness was necessary for what he was about to do, for what he was about to ascertain. If Steeljaw was correct in his assumptions--and he very rarely was wrong--then he was going to be in for a wild night.

Somebot...no... _somebots_ were getting busy.

-

Quiet as a falling leaf, he stalked through the hallways of their base. The structure's foundations shifted under its own collapsing weight and muffled any noise Steeljaw might have made. He remained steadfast in his hunt, continued following the trail of aromas even as it lead him to weave his bulk through cramped spaces full of dust and decay.

He was intrigued, absolutely enthralled by the notion of his pack members shamelessly interfacing like earth rabbits. Their identities--whether it was Underbite with his bizarrely shaped frame or Fracture's own tiny Minicons--were of no issue. He simply wanted to indulge his voyeuristic tendencies and get a fantastic overload from doing so.

'Still.' he mused inwardly. 'I wouldn't be complaining if it were--'

Steeljaw smelled them before he heard or saw them, cloying mixture of odors too overwhelming to push aside.

Newly spilt transfluids, pungent and intoxicating, vile and alluring, a suffocating cloud that stirred heat deep within. Delicately scented lubricant, a sweet edge to the powerful smell of transfluids. The release of bottled-up lusts, subtle but potent. The wolf-con very nearly lost himself in the haze of smells, olfactory sensors overstimulated to near numbness.

"Oh Primus! Fracture! Harder!" Thunderhoof's unmistakeable bellow pierced his audials and snapped the wolf-con out of his daze.

"Easy on the screaming, Airazor and Divebomb are recharging!"

"I said Harder!"

"Fine! You want 'harder' you got 'harder'!" Fracture's mad cackling rose above Thunderhoof's moaning.

A tingle of excitement coursed through Steeljaw's spinal strut. Wasting no more time he slunk on, timing his pedefalls with the rise and fall of licentious moans. A sense of urgency spurned him to move faster, taking away his finesse and almost causing him to crash head on with a mountain of steel beams as he rounded the corner. Fracture and Thunderhoof sounded much, much closer now. Cautiously, he peered over the pile.

Steeljaw felt his systems freeze up at what he was witnessing. Senses, astute and keen as always, allowed him to savor the scene to the fullest.

Thunderhoof and Fracture were splayed out on the floor, elbows grounded, legs interlocked and valves grinding against each other. Slivers of small, white light glistened on their pelvic plating, transfluids that seeped and continued to seep from between their valve lips. Pure ecstasy was written across their flushed faceplates, was clear in their crackling vocals.

The building warmth in Steeljaw's interface panel swiftly peaked and he felt his spike pressurize against its confines, begging for release. Clawed servos trailed downwards to undo the clasps in hurried, clumsy motions. His processors saw, heard and smelt only Thunderhoof and Fracture, wildly interfacing as lovers would after pining for each other for so long. He barely registered the relieved hiss of his interface panel retracting and the cool air that caressed his engorged spike.

Thunderhoof's vocalizer emitted heady moan after heady moan. "That the best youse can do, Frac'?"

"Believe you me, you rusty old cog..." Fracture growled. "...I've barely just begun."

Fuelled by burning lust, Steeljaw wrapped his shaking hands around his spike and began to pump. His breathing hitched as he witnessed the purple con's servos pinch and prod Thunderhoof's anterior node, eliciting sharp yelps that reverberated through their dingy little corner of the base. Listening to Thunderhoof lose himself drove Fracture to do it again, more demanding and much harder this time, reducing the other's screeches into blissful sobbing. All the while Steeljaw continued to stroke his spike, to commit every sordid detail of this scene to his primal memory banks, to chase after the sweet overload so close within reach. But overload evaded him once more as Fracture abruptly stopped teasing his partner and began to clean his lubricant-stained digits with his glossa.

Thunderhoof shot the bounty hunter a look of desperation. "Ey-yo, Frac', why'd ya stop?" The elk-con whined.

Fracture's servos left his intake with a wet pop. "I just don't feel right excluding others from the fun. Share my sentiments, _boss-bot_?" he cocked his helm until his optics were staring directly at Steeljaw.

If looks could kill the wolf-con would've been nothing more than an empty shell. All attempts at stealth gone with a singe glance, the most he could do now was to feign cool indifference.

"Impressive. Most impressive." Steeljaw muttered as he emerged from his place in the shadows.

Fracture smirked. "My skills or the show?" he emphasized the last word by slamming his crotch plate against Thunderhoof's with a loud clang.

"The latter more so than the former. Though both are..." Steeljaw trailed off, distracted by the elk-con wriggling his hips. "...impressive in their own ways." he finally said after a moment.

Thunderhoof snorted. "So many words for 'Ey-yo, Frac' and 'Hoof, wanna frag?'." Bright red optics were drawn to the erect spike between Steeljaw's thighs.

"Threesome with Steeljaw?" Fracture sounded thrilled. "Why not? You're just not doing it for me tonight." he gave his partner a brief, withering gaze.

"Right back atcha." came the snappy reply.

The wolf-con shook his helm. "I wouldn't dare impose myself."

Fracture waved a hand dismissively. "You're not. We insist."

Steeljaw maintained an impassive face, even as the two other mechs extricated themselves and moved towards him. Even as they pushed his unresisting body to the ground and kneaded his frame. Even as they murmured filthy promises that would make an Autobot recoil in disgust.

With surprising deft, Thunderhoof and Fracture had manoeuvred themselves into their desired positions: the bulk of their weight resting on the floor, their thighs laid across Steeljaw's frame, their valves sandwiching the wolf-con's spike between their swollen and supple lips. The all-encompassing, emanating warmth alone could've made Steeljaw overload instantly. The sensation of fresh transfluids dribbling onto his spike would've made him cum even faster.

But Steeljaw held on, determined to make the most of this experience. Still he allowed himself to exhale a few shuddering breaths, if only to vent off a small amount of tension. Without another sound he steadied himself for what was to come.

"Youse ready, Steely?" Thunderhoof cooed, amused at his leader's attempts at self-control.

Steeljaw nodded and the mechs above him proceeded.

Fracture and Thunderhoof began gyrating their hips, rubbing their valve lips all over the length of Steeljaw's spike. Any and all friction was smoothened out by transfluids and lubricant, and almost immediately the two mechs settled on a rhythm. One moment, folds of moist and puffy mesh would gently, languidly caress the spike, lingering motions across irritable sensors as drawn out as possible. The next, they would draw back their hips slightly then slam their slick valve lips onto Steeljaw's length, pulling back and then thrusting again. They alternated between these two actions in a slow, steady pace, completely soaking their and Steeljaw's pelvic plating in sticky transfluids that continued to flow freely.

Yellow optics wide and silver glossa silenced, Steeljaw watched it all unfold with rapt fascination. Their unabashed boldness and their lack of trepidation said it all. This wasn't the first time they had taken their relationship to a more physical level, nor the first time they'd indulged their carnal desires with another party. Not once would he have ever pegged Fracture nor Thunderhoof to be so...adventurous behind closed doors.

And the smells... _the smells_. Their arousal at its zenith, the transfluids plentiful...a domineering aroma, a robust smell that oozed into the seams of their frames and penetrated their innermost wiring. It was all amazing and too much.

He clamped down on his lower lip component, biting back an undignified moan. Fracture, unfortunately, noticed and cackled in delight. "Rela-ax, Steeljaw. It's just us."

"Yeah, 's just us, Steely." Thunderhoof concurred breathlessly. "If there was anybody else then Frac' and me wouldn't be doin' this."

To bring his point home the elk-con untangled his limbs and unceremoniously pushed Fracture off of Steeljaw. Thunderhoof ignored the curses being hurled at him as he stood up and positioned himself over the other's throbbing spike. He gave his leader a sultry little smile, a wordless promise of an unforgettable experience. Steeljaw returned it with one of his own and Thunderhoof took it as a sign to go right ahead. Steadily, he lowered himself until the wolf-con was buried to the hilt in his delicious, tight heat.

Thunderhoof shook and moaned, shuddered and whimpered, as he felt Steeljaw's spike stretch out his valve and fill him completely. Steeljaw's frame jerked impulsively, causing him to thrust his hips upwards, connecting his pelvic plating with the other's aft. The larger mech gasped, static filling his vision, deepest sensory nodes sending electricity through his systems, into his processor. Thunderhoof nearly keeled over in shock, but managed to regain his composure in a moment's time. Without wasting another second he began to roll his hips in wild abandon.

Off to the side, Fracture seethed. "Selfish son of a glitch." he snarled. He was infuriated. At Thunderhoof for casting him aside like breem-old slag, and at himself for being unable to tear his optics away from the sight. Watching Steeljaw plough into Thunderhoof, their interface a shameless display, the bounty hunter felt his own frame heating up and his valve getting wetter and wetter. His servos were already delving between his valve folds when Steeljaw's voice called for him.

"There's more than enough room for one more." Steeljaw licked his lip components and Fracture understood immediately.

"You spoil us, Steeljaw."

"I don't. I'm simply good at multitasking."

Fracture crawled to Steeljaw's side and lifted himself onto the other's helm, placing his valve directly above a ravenous intake. The bounty hunter gasped when he felt a glossa tease his anterior node. Steeljaw had done this before and was an expert at it; knowing which invisible sensors to press against and which cluster of cables to suckle upon. His anterior node was treated especially well, overly perceptive nub the recipient of many hungry kisses and exacting flicks. Soon Fracture was just as bad Thunderhoof, the both of them overwhelmed by varying sensations assaulting their valves.

Underneath them, Steeljaw felt his pride grow even more. This was all his doing. Bringing out the primal aspects of their personalities. Transforming them into lust-riddled bots. Affording them a great amount of joy in such dire times. He was proud to have done his fellow Decepticons such a service.

Overload consumed all three mechs at the same time. Wracking tremors, charges sparking wildly through their systems, ran across their frames. They froze, unable to move or speak, even as transfluids gushed out of them. The only concept their processors could grasp was that of pure bliss. Would-be screams fell silent as overload slammed into and washed over them again and again and again.

An eternity seemed to have passed when the last wave of overload finally ebbed away. Thunderhoof and Fracture collapsed onto the floors with inelegant clangs, their wheezy breaths and the whirring of their cooling fans echoing throughout the room. They were filthy, all three of them were. Sticky transfluids ruining their polished finishes.

They could have cared less.

Drained of all energy, Steeljaw didn't struggle nor complain as Fracture and Thunderhoof began licking his faceplates clean. The purple 'con even dared to steal a kiss with Thunderhoof quickly following suit. Steeljaw closed his optics in contentment, small grin forming at the corners of his lips. Interfacing with Fracture and Thunderhoof was an incredible experience. Overloading with them was an unforgettable memory. This moment, though more subdued, just felt like the perfect way to close off to end the night. It seemed that even duplicitous Steeljaw, hot-headed Thunderhoof and aloof Fracture had the capacity for genuine tenderness, however rare such displays would be.

"That's enough of that." Steeljaw vented a hoarse whisper. "I don't need sweetsparks, I need warriors. And as warriors you all..." the wolf-con yawned. "...deserve to rest."

Optics still screwed shut, he felt and heard the two mechs carry out his orders. They lay their frames close to his and shared in his warmth. One of them--he wasn't sure who--softly uttered a few words from a secret language familiar to Decepticons only, a brief yet moving prayer for victory over all obstacles to come.

The scent of something that wasn't quite lust, wasn't quite love, followed him as he and his companions drifted off into recharge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would I, should I include Clampdown and Underbite the next time around? Feel free to let me know. I might just go on ahead and write a full-on Decepti-orgy.


End file.
